


His Brother's Shield

by EsperHeart



Category: Onward (2020)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-16 05:27:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29077101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EsperHeart/pseuds/EsperHeart
Summary: It was meant to be a simple day of practice in a relatively safe place.But Ian's training is about to be put to the test when he must protect himself and his brother from an unexpected threat.
Relationships: Barley Lightfoot & Ian Lightfoot, Barley Lightfoot and The Manticore, Ian Lightfoot and The Manticore
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	His Brother's Shield

**Author's Note:**

> *Triumphant cackling*  
> I did it, I did it, I DID IT I DID IT I DID IT--  
> In all honesty, though, I started this fic back in LATE NOVEMBER. And it seems as though every possible thing happened to delay it, I can't even tell you all!  
> So for those of you who knew this story was coming and had to wait for it...I'm sorry you had to wait so long, and I hope you enjoy it.

Ian Lightfoot stood firmly, feet apart and staff held in front of him. His grip was tight, and he stared warily at his adversary, who was standing a few yards ahead of him and giving him a taunting smile.

"Well?" he smirked, "Surely you weren't planning on just standing around all day--don't tell me you've lost your nerve?"

Ian didn't justify this with a response: he simply took a deep breath, let it out, and adjusted his hold. His opponent noticed some of the tension leaving Ian's body, and he charged with a battle cry. Ian's eyes went wide with alarm, and he spoke.

_"Bastion Fortigar!"_

He gasped as, for the first time ever, he witnessed a white, transparent veil encircle him, then close over his head like a dome. He was just about to smile in wonder when the other man ran straight into his shield, bounced off like a cork, and sprawled flat on his back. Ian's jaw dropped and he blinked, the shield dissipating. He rushed forward and dropped to his hands and knees beside the still form. "Are you okay?" he asked frantically, "Are you--"

Ian's words halted as he was yanked into a pair of large, muscular arms--he yelped and immediately struggled to break free of the confining hold. Within a few seconds he could hear his captor's gleeful cackle. "See what happens when you let your guard down, little brother!"

"Barley, let go!" Ian wheezed. He was wrapped tight in his older brother's bear hug, and he flailed for freedom. "I still have my staff, and I _will_ use it on you!"

The laugh Barley gave in turn showed that he wasn't at all concerned, but after a single noogie to Ian's head he released him. Ian sat back up, panting. Barley followed suit, clapping Ian's shoulder. "You still need a bit of work on that, Sir Iandore," he said.

"Hey, at least I got the shield to show up this time!"

"You most certainly did," Barley nodded, "but that's only Step 1: the next step is _maintaining_ it--which you didn't quite manage."

Ian frowned. "Actually, I did--you couldn't get through, could you?"

Barley poked Ian's forehead. "You had it for only a few seconds, and you dropped the shield before you had the all-clear."

"Only because you decided to be a living crash dummy!" Ian exclaimed.

"Well, how else are we gonna see how well the shield holds up?" Barley asked with a shrug. He patted a little dirt off of his vest. "Besides, if your shield goes down and your enemy is still eager to fight, you're gonna be in trouble."

"I'll keep that in mind for if I actually _have_ an enemy. In the meantime, there has to be a smarter way to go about this that won't end up with you getting a concussion."

"I believe there is!" a third voice called, and the boys turned in surprise to see the Manticore looking down at them from atop one of the many outcroppings that surrounded them.

"Your Ferociousness!" Barley greeted enthusiastically, "When did you get back?"

"About five minutes ago," she replied.

Ian winced. "So you saw..."

"Yep!" She placed a hand on her hip, amusement dancing in her eyes. "You've been making good progress, Iandore, but you've still got a ways to go before you match up to the wizards of old!"

Ian sighed, "Yeah, I guess so."

"Were you listening in?" Barley asked her. He and Ian stood up.

"Sure was, and you've both got a point." She spread her large wings, hopped off the stone, and glided down. Once she landed she turned to address Ian. "Now, you know I'm not a wizard myself, so I'll admit that what I'm telling you is based on second-hand experience--but the shield spell is easy to get wrong, especially for beginners. Can you tell me the magic decree?"

"An unblinking stare is required if a strong barrier is desired," Ian recited.

"It's as much about mental discipline as it is about anything else," the Manticore said, "The shield spell is one of the most useful tools a wizard can have in his or her arsenal, and it can defend you from almost anything...for as long as you can focus. If you blink too soon, or even if you let yourself get distracted, that barrier is gone--and depending on the threat you're facing your life will be too." Ian's fingers tightened around his staff, his mouth suddenly feeling dry. The Manticore then turned to face Barley, looking a little more stern. "And your brother is right--you shouldn't run headfirst into a magical wall like a maniac!"

"Thank you!" Ian said. He gave Barley an _I-told-you-so_ look, and in response Barley stuck his tongue out. Then the Manticore reached down and removed the sword she carried at her waist. She gave Barley a dangerous grin.

"You use a weapon!"

"Oh, _yeeeaaah!"_ Barley cheered, eagerly taking the sword and raising it high in the air.

Ian gulped. "On second thought, Barley's skull is remarkably thick--I'm sure a few more runs into a solid bubble couldn't possibly hurt him!"

Barley lowered the blade. "Oh, relax, Ian, I'll keep it sheathed. Besides, with a little more practice I doubt even the magnificent Curse Crusher could shatter your barrier!"

Perhaps Ian might've been more reassured by that statement if he hadn't heard the Manticore mutter under her breath, "It _totally_ could..." Making sure the blade in question was secured on her back, she took a few steps away and spread her wings.

"You're not sticking around to watch?" Barley asked.

"I'd like to," she answered, "but some people in the last town were talking about some disturbances going on at the cliffs nearby--figured it would be worth a look, and a little more exercise couldn't hurt." In spite of her confident tone, there was a bit of a wince on her face as she said those last few words, and Ian could guess why--aside from his mother, he didn't know anyone who really enjoyed exercising.

"Disturbances?" Barley repeated, intrigued. "What kind of disturbances?"

"The kind where many animals in the general vicinity have been attacked," she answered.

Ian's eyebrows shot up. "Attacked by what?"

"Nobody knows yet. It's an ongoing investigation, but from what I hear the police are having some trouble finding the answers--there are only some parts of the area they can easily reach...but maybe I'll have better luck!" She flexed her wings to emphasize her point.

Barley began to bounce on his toes. "A _mystery!_ Can we come help?" he asked excitedly.

The Manticore shook her head. "Not this time, Barley--right now you two are better off practicing here. Much of the cliffside is treacherous, and I seriously doubt that you know much about rock-climbing."

"Aw, come on!" Barley argued.

"That's my say on it, and I'm _not_ budging," she said firmly.

Ian was never as willing to leap into danger as Barley was, but even he could see a problem with this. "Miss Manticore, you said yourself nobody knows what's causing this. And..." Ian hesitated.

The Manticore's eyebrows furrowed. "And what?" she prodded, her wings folding back down.

Ian already regretted that he'd spoken. Still, he huffed and forced himself to continue. "Well, I think you're still having trouble. Like with the rock dragon, when you threw your back out..." The Manticore's frown deepened slightly, and a look of warning flashed in Barley's eyes--a rarity for him, as far as conversations go. "Not that you're not strong, because you _are,"_ Ian quickly said, "just...wouldn't it make sense for us to back you up, in case...in case you get overwhelmed, or..." His words trailed off uncertainly.

She stared at him for a moment, her expression unreadable. It made him fidget and shift from one foot to the other, and Barley kept glancing between them. Then she blinked a couple of times, and she stood a little straighter. "I know I kind of let myself go after I retired, but I've changed that. I'm doing my wing exercises regularly now, the Curse Crusher is back where it belongs--" she reached back and patted the hilt, "--and my instincts are as sharp as they ever were! The old Manticore is back, and she's here to stay." She smiled...but somehow it looked forced. Ian opened his mouth to respond, but she spread her wings and took off before he could. "There'll be plenty of chances to solve mysteries later--I promise!" she called back to them. They watched as she grew smaller on the horizon, until eventually she was gone.

Ian couldn't help but sigh; even though she hadn't seemed upset, he still felt guilty for implying her weakness. He should've clarified that he didn't see her as weak at heart, that he was simply thinking of her age and--wait, no, that would've been _so_ much worse.

Barley walked over to lean against Guinevere II, a disappointed pout on his face. Ian wanted to cheer Barley up, but maybe it _was_ for the best that they stay where they were. Barley had a reckless streak a mile wide, and Ian's stomach dropped at the thought of all the ways his brother could hurt himself trying to climb up a cliff wall.

_Okay, it's time for a distraction,_ he thought adamantly.

"Barley? I think I'm ready to try again. Now that you have your, uh..." Ian gestured to the blade that the Manticore had entrusted Barley with.

Barley looked down at the sword, thankfully still in its sheath. He looked back at his younger brother and grinned, his dejection apparently forgotten. "Well, then," he said eagerly, "let's get back to work, my dear protege!"

* * *

It felt so good to soar through the air again. Down on the ground, problems seemed so much larger, more inescapable. But up in the sky was the reminder that it really was possible to leave those troubles behind, if only for a little while. She felt stronger, faster...free. The Manticore savored the feel of the wind rushing through her hair and fur. For such a long time she had forgotten how this felt, before the night she had burned her tavern down and rediscovered herself.

She hadn't interacted closely with either of the Lightfoot brothers since the night they'd first met. On the contrary she spoke with Laurel and occasionally her husband Colt more frequently, and any encounters she'd had with Ian had been in passing. She was fairly sure that Barley would gladly talk to her more often if he hadn't been so busy training his brother, looking for a job and being a thorn in police officers' sides. With all that said, she'd been a bit surprised to see the boys walk into her tavern earlier that morning asking for help. Of course, her surprise had been _nothing_ compared to the shock that filled her employees and guests, most of whom remembered very well the last time Ian and Barley had come looking for her. Upon seeing the boys and hearing them ask for the Manticore, they'd all promptly raced for the nearest exit.

Afterward, the three of them wordlessly agreed to pretend that didn't happen.

She'd expected that they were starting off on a new quest, but it turned out that they were seeking something much simpler this time around. According to Barley they were still practicing Ian's magic, but their options for a proper training ground were limited. Everywhere they'd tried to progress was either near a populated area, off-limits to the public, or set in a _very_ skeptical place with far too many shadows, nooks and crannies. She could see their dilemma; some spells were safe enough to practice just about anywhere, such as the levitation spell. Spells like arcane lightning, on the other hand, were far too dangerous to attempt around crowded areas. For that matter, some of them probably shouldn't be learned inside buildings, either, lest Ian accidentally bring the whole place down on them.

_Wouldn't be the first time a wizard-in-training did that,_ she thought with a grimace. She'd been caught in such a collapse once. It wasn't an experience that she wanted to repeat.

Fortunately the Manticore was able to lend a helping hand to the brothers; she knew a place where they could train as much as they needed to. Even better, it wasn't too far from her tavern. It was just close enough to civilization to return to in a hurry, yet far enough that no one would be endangered. And since her employees had unexpectedly and unanimously decided to take the day off she saw no reason to stick around and keep the tavern open.

_And now, here we all are--the adventurers training in the hills, and me, heading off to search for some unknown danger._ She paused, Ian's concerns from earlier beginning to float around in her head.

_"Well, I think you're still having trouble. Like with the rock dragon, when you threw your back out..."_

The Manticore sighed heavily. Not for the first time, she wondered how she'd never noticed just how far she'd fallen...how she'd wilted so much under the pressures and changes of the modern age that it had taken the desperate words of a teenage boy to snap her out of it.

_"You say you can't risk losing this place?! Look at that Manticore--she looks like she_ lived _to take risks!"_

Her musings were interrupted as the sight of the cliffs came into view, and she strengthened her resolve. This investigation probably wouldn't yield any serious results. More than likely the cause was simply a lone predator or two--something she could easily chase off, ideally to a more remote location. Not exactly the sort of story that would be retold in future generations, but if she was going to get back into the swing of things, maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea to start with something small.

It would be fine.

* * *

"Okay, on the count of three!" Barley declared, holding up three fingers and beginning to count down. "One..."

Ian blinked a few times rapidly.

"...two..."

Ian spread his feet, envisioning himself as a tree putting down its roots.

_"...three!"_

Ian raised his staff.

_"Bastion Fortigar!"_

The shield enveloped him, and Barley yelled and ran towards him, his (thankfully still sheathed) sword held high above his head. As he reached Ian he brought the weapon down on the shield, and it collided into the barrier with a sharp _clang._ The shield didn't so much as falter, and Ian smiled in amazement. The feeling was short-lived, however, as Barley began to circle and prod at the veil, and Ian's eyes began to itch as the urge to blink grew. Contrary to what other people might assume about him, Ian could actually keep his eyes open for a decent amount of time. Not nearly as long as Barley--Ian had lost every single staring contest he could ever remember having with him--but decent nonetheless. As Barley made his way around back in front of him, Ian thought that surely, he could do this.

Barley hummed. "Well, this is _quite_ the improvement, little brother! All nice and sturdy and..." His eyes widened and he pointed to the sky behind Ian. "Hey, the Manticore's back!"

Ian turned around to look, the shield vanishing. "Really?"

_"Nope!"_

"Wait a minute, _wait--!"_ was all Ian had time to say before Barley tackled him.

* * *

Ian scowled at his older brother, resisting the urge to abandon his staff altogether and pound the stuffing out of him with his bare hands. He didn't care that his thin frame would mean he couldn't put much force into his fists anyway; Barley was looking back at him from several feet away, and he had no right to look so smug!

"Ready to try again, Ian?" he snickered.

Ian could feel about a hundred different responses to that question building in his throat, the majority of which were rather unflattering, but he abstained. He readjusted his hold on his staff, narrowing his eyes at Barley in a silent challenge.

A challenge his brother was all too happy to answer. "Here I coooooooome!!!" Barley hollered as he charged.

_"Bastion Fortigar!"_

The shield appeared, and Ian was pleased to realize that each time he cast the spell the veil appeared more quickly than before; he was getting the hang of this. Barley brought his weapon down, and once again he could not break through. Barley continued to swing his sword at it, getting no closer to reaching Ian than his previous attempt. Ian kept his breathing even, and whenever the itching sensation in his eyes started, he would move them just a fraction--not enough to distract him from Barley, but enough to keep his discomfort at bay for a few more seconds.

Eventually Barley stopped to catch his breath. He backed up a step, surveying the shield and rubbing his chin with a thoughtful expression. Then his face brightened, as though a lightbulb had gone off in his head. Ian kept a sharp eye out for any more tricks his brother might pull. He waited...

...and Barley placed his hands on his hips, stuck his tongue out and crossed his eyes.

Ian's eyebrows furrowed. "What are you--?"

Barley leaned forward, still with that goofy expression, but now with his eyes bulging. Ian felt the corner of his lips quirk.

Oh, no.

Barley then scrunched his face up, showing his teeth and squinting one eye. He brought his hands up and started wiggling his fingers, his mouth contorting into a parody of a monster's. Ian's mouth twitched, and he had to fight to keep from smiling.

No, no, _no!_

"I-I know what y-you're doing," Ian said, and he was dismayed to hear his voice wobbling from the strain of containing the laughter he could feel bubbling in his stomach, "a-a-and it won't w-work!" Barley's only response was to blow raspberries at him, his eyes still crossed, and Ian let out an involuntary snort. 

Barley had to have sensed his brother's weakness, because he stepped forward and pressed his face onto the shield, and Gargamon's Tail, with his face wide open, his eyes still bulging and his cheeks all squished, it reminded Ian of the days where Barley did the exact same thing with the windows, and it wasn't funny, it wasn't, it was _stupid,_ he looked so--

_You sneaky, rotten, son of a--!_

Ian's composure snapped, and he burst out laughing; it was safe to say that his spell stood no chance of standing after that, and Barley seized his opportunity.

"Gotcha!"

"Nononononononononono--!"

The next thing Ian knew, he was back on the ground, too out of breath to properly speak and alternating between residual laughter and groaning. His brother was dragon-piled on top of him.

"Poke," said Barley, indeed poking Ian's face teasingly, "poke, poke, poke--"

"Stop it," Ian grumbled, finally regaining his self-control.

"Poke poke poke poke poke..."

Ian wrestled one of his arms out from where it was pinned beneath him, and he shoved Barley's hand away. Despite his attempts to maintain a sour expression, he could still feel the corners of his lips turn upward.

"Now," Barley said amusingly, _"who_ said that _what_ wouldn't work, Sir Ian?"

"I hate you."

"You love me!"

Barley moved off of Ian, allowing the younger elf to work his way to his knees. Then he took Ian's arm and pulled him to his feet. He patted the dust off of his younger brother's flannel shirt. Ian sighed, but he was still smiling--he felt exasperated, but at the same time the worst of his frustration from earlier was gone.

He never could stay angry at Barley.

* * *

"Barley, what are you doing now?" Ian questioned, taking a drink from a bottle of water.

"Getting ready to put in some training of my own," Barley answered matter-of-factly.

After what proved to be a grueling hour of practicing the shield spell, the boys had settled down inside Guinevere II for a well-deserved break. Ian was currently sitting at the very back, both doors swung open, his leg bouncing on the ground. Barley, however, had taken the long coil of rope that he normally kept for fixing Guinevere's fender or bumper. Now he was standing at the foot of one of the larger outcroppings, holding the rope in his arms and staring up at the top.

Ian was confused at Barley's statement. "What kind of training?"

"Well, the way I see it, if I'm going on real quests now, I need to have proper questing skills!"

Ian didn't like where this was going. "Barley, you do have questing skills. You're strong, you can run fast, you know how quests work, you can drive!"

"It never hurts to learn how to do other things!"

"Uh..." Ian said nervously, "in this case, it might. Do you really not see how dangerous this is?"

Unexpectedly, Barley laughed. "I'm not worried, Ian--I know I've got you to catch me if I fall!"

Ian let out an explosive sigh. He reached behind him and picked his staff up from where he'd laid it. "Could you have at least picked out a more... _stable_...looking pile of rocks?"

"Oh, don't worry, soon-to-be Master Iandore--everything'll be A-okay!"

_Famous last words,_ Ian thought, pinching the bridge of his nose and his eyelids squeezing shut.

* * *

So far nothing seriously bad had happened. Barley had attempted to climb up the rock wall with the rope, determined to wrap said rope around one of the sturdier boulders at the top and throw the rest over the side and climb back down. Barley had only made it a few feet up before he lost his grip and fell back to the ground. Ian had used the levitation spell to lift his brother the rest of the way (why Barley hadn't simply asked him to do so in the first place was beyond him). After Barley had secured the rope, he had slipped and tumbled off the edge, prompting a panicked Ian to catch him with yet another levitation spell.

Ian couldn't help but wonder what happened to a wizard's Heart's Fire when they suffered a heart attack.

After being lowered gently to the ground (and receiving a stern lecture about caution from his little brother in the process), Barley had declared himself ready to begin. Ian had practically stood at attention as Barley took hold of the rope and started to make his way up the wall. The outcropping Barley had chosen to train on wasn't the size of the cliffs the Manticore had flown off to observe, but the face of it was still about twenty feet tall. By the time he'd made it halfway up Barley was sweating and panting, his face flushed from exertion. Ian had thought for certain that Barley would lose his grip and fall again, but eventually he was proven wrong when Barley reached the top with a triumphant shout. Ian had laughed in delight and congratulated him...only for Barley to collapse the moment he was on a solid surface.

Ian gasped. "Barley, are you okay? Barley!"

Barley held a thumbs-up as he heaved for breath. "...Never...better..."

Now that Barley was resting and didn't seem like he'd be getting up for a while, Ian chose to take this moment to practice the shield spell some more. He left the van, walked a few paces away, and stood straight.

_"Bastion Fortigar!"_

This time Ian's goal wasn't to see how the shield would hold under pressure, but rather how long he could keep his eyes open and maintain it. Ian stared straight ahead and didn't divert his attention, even when Barley noticed what he was doing and proceeded to toss pebbles and rocks onto the shield from above. Ian could hear each stone bounce off the dome with a _ping._ Before too long, though, he cancelled the spell with a sigh.

"Hey!" Barley called from where he was sprawled on his stomach, "I know that's not the best you can do--what gives?"

"I'm tired, that's what gives," Ian hollered back up to him, "I'm ready to call it a day!"

"Already?!" Barley exclaimed in disbelief, "We've only just begun!"

"Barley, we've been out and about for _four hours_ now. Four and a half if you count the drive to the Manticore's Tavern!"

"Really?" Barley took his hat off to scratch his scalp. "Huh. Time really flies, doesn't it? I never seem to notice."

"That's what watches are for." Ian happened to glance down, and he noticed that his shoelaces were coming undone. He grunted and bent down to re-tie them; he hated it when that happened.

"Okay, once the Manticore gets back we can..." Barley's voice trailed off.

Securing his shoelaces, Ian stood back up and craned his head to look at his brother, who was now standing up. "Ready to come back down?" Ian called to him. Barley swiftly held a hand up, signaling him to stop talking. Ian blinked--that was odd. Barley was staring very intently at the horizon--it was hard to tell from his position on the ground, but Ian thought that Barley's eyes were squinting, as though trying to see better. Curiosity piqued, Ian turned his head to see what had caught his older brother's attention.

Ian saw them, but he couldn't make them out at first--vague, dark shapes with wings flapping furiously in the air. He felt a sense of foreboding at the fact that there were several of them, a feeling that only grew as he realized that those silhouettes were getting closer. Ian gasped, and he heard Barley shout; they'd both realized at the exact same moment what they were.

_"Wolf dragons!"_

Ian spun back around. "Barley, climb down now!" There might still be hope; the creatures could just keep flying overhead, not even noticing them, if only Barley could get down from where they could easily see him--

But it was too late.

Ian screamed in shock as a fireball shot past him and crashed into the ground.

"Ian!" he heard his brother cry. Ian's eyes shot back up to the sky; now they were heading directly for them. "Ian, take cover!" Barley ordered him frantically. But he couldn't; Barley was still at the top of that rock wall with nowhere to hide and only the Manticore's spare sword to protect himself with. Ian couldn't leave him alone. Before he could use his magic to safely transport his brother, Ian saw two wolf dragons, faster than the others, flying towards Barley's position. Ian gasped and raised his staff.

_"Boombastia!"_

One of the creatures let out an ear-piercing shriek as the fireworks spell hit them dead-center, sending it crashing to the ground. The second, however, made it to the outcropping with a frightening hiss.

"Barley!"

"I've got this!" Barley yelled confidently; no doubt he was unsheathing his sword. Ian didn't have time to argue with him; the rest of the wolf dragons were bearing down on them, and Ian looked at them all in horror.

Wolf dragons were one of the more bizarre creatures that lived in the wilderness, and one of the more hostile species as well. For starters, they only resembled dragons in the sense that they could breathe fire-- _fireballs,_ in the case of stronger specimens--and had scaly wings and tails. They looked canine in all other aspects, save for the eyes, which were always crimson. Most packs of wolf dragons lived far away from civilization; they were very territorial, and lethal to any who were unfortunate or ignorant enough to enter their hunting grounds. Otherwise, they had no desire to approach people. Every once in a while, though, a particularly bloodthirsty pack would decide to settle down outside towns or small cities, preying on those who would end up too far from help. Ian remembered all this because he had done a report on them for one of his classes the previous year.

He also remembered, with a sense of irony, thinking how lucky he was that he'd probably never have to deal with one.

At any rate, they were seconds away swarming the brothers completely. Thinking fast, Ian aimed his staff for the center of the pack. To make lightning strike with ease, one must follow all decrees.

_"Voltar Thundasir!"_

A magnificent bolt of lightning erupted from the end of his staff, shooting its way straight through the aggressive beasts; several were hit and dropped to the ground, dead. The ones that the spell missed veered off in different directions, but it was too early to celebrate; they were circling back around to them.

A screech sent Ian whirling around, terrified and expecting to see his brother split open by wicked claws. Instead, Barley had gotten a direct hit on the animal attacking him--not fatal, but grievous enough for it to retreat. The end of his sword was dripping with dark blood, and he pumped the air with his fist. "And _that_ is why you don't mess with a mighty warrior!" he declared.

"Yeah, yeah," Ian shouted hurriedly, "now get down already! We have to make to run for it!" There was no telling whether they could escape these things in Guinevere II, but it would be more ideal to take shelter in her than to stay out in the open. Ian cast another fireworks spell at yet a third wolf dragon swooping in to attack Barley, then saw something charging him from the corner of his eye.

_"Bastion Fortigar,"_ he chanted quickly.

The creature ran straight into the shield that enveloped him and recoiled. It shook its head, glared at him with such malice that Ian felt a chill race up his spine, then opened its mouth and released a stream of fire. Luckily for Ian, it still wasn't enough to penetrate the shield. Enraged, the wolf dragon raked its claws across the veil, trying to tear it open. Ian was determined not to let it succeed, but he could feel his panic mounting at the knowledge that by defending himself like this, he had left Barley vulnerable. But if he let the shield down now, he wouldn't have enough time to prepare a counterattack before the beast either mauled or incinerated him. And there were still many others to content with. This wasn't looking good.

Just when Ian thought things couldn't get much worse, he heard his brother cry out. "Barley," he gasped fearfully, and without thinking he turned his head in a desire to look behind him. He stopped himself, but his distraction had already cost him. The shield was dispelled, and the monster in front of him stumbled, having still been trying to break it. In the split second before it pounced, Ian blindly dodged to the side, barely avoiding having his throat torn out by its horrendous teeth. He fell in a heap to the ground, coughing as the impact conjured a cloud of dust. His head shot up to look behind him, knowing that the wolf dragon would kill him for sure now that he was off-balance. But suddenly, another wolf dragon crashed into it, snarling. For a moment Ian watched the two of them fight each other, confused, until he remembered another detail from his report: that wolf dragons often fought over their food. That bought him a few more minutes, at least, and he scrambled to his feet and looked at the outcropping.

To Ian's relief, Barley was still alive, and even better, he was on the ground. He was absolutely covered in dust and dirt--Ian realized that Barley must've fallen at some point trying to climb the rope down. Speaking of the rope, it was also on the ground...because somehow the rock it had been secured to had _also_ fallen, and it was sitting next to Barley. Ian was thankful that his brother hadn't been crushed by it. Barley wasn't safe, though--he was swinging his sword in an arc around him, keeping two of the monsters at bay. Even if tiredness wasn't apparent on Barley's face, Ian knew it was only a matter of time before one of them breathed fire on him, in which case his sword wouldn't make any difference.

_"Aloft Elevar!"_

A blue light surrounded one of the wolf dragons, and Ian swung his staff, hurling the beast away from his brother. He couldn't use the fireworks or arcane lightnings spells in this instance, not without the risk of hitting Barley as well. Ian was ready to deal with the other one as well, but fortunately he didn't have to: this one seemed to come to the conclusion that staying was more trouble than it was worth, and it turned tail and ran away.

If only the others had been so fast to give up.

"Ian, behind you!" Barley cried, pointing. Ian turned just in time for another wolf dragon to barrel into him. In desperation, Ian thrust his staff above him just as its jaws closed around it. The creature thrashed, trying to wrench it away and move in for the kill, and it was all Ian could do to hold on. He knew that once he lost it, he was dead. Saliva dripped from the animal's snapping mouth onto Ian's neck, and he resisted the urge to throw up.

_"You leave him alone!"_ Barley screamed, and the wolf dragon yelped as a large rock was thrown at its head. It was enough to make it back off temporarily, and Ian kicked its snout, forcing it further away. Then he heard a loud roar, and something landed heavily between them. For a second, Ian thought despairingly that it was another wolf dragon, ready to fight the smaller one for the right to eat him. But in an instant he knew he was wrong.

_"The Manticore!!!"_ Barley cheered ecstatically. Ian wondered if he was going to do that every time she came to save them.

"Get up, Ian," the Manticore said urgently, "Fight!"

He didn't need to be told twice...especially as he heard a suspicious crumbling sound. Ian turned, trying to discern where it was coming from, until he saw something moving at the top of the rock wall. It was one of the other boulders, and it was sliding off the edge--it must've come loose during the battle. And it was about to fall on top of Barley, who in his jubilation hadn't noticed the danger. The stone fell, along with a few smaller ones, and Ian acted.

_"Aloft Elevar!"_

He caught the rocks, and he strained a little at their combined weight. Barley's eyes widened in puzzlement, then he looked up and gaped as he understood what had nearly happened to him. He grinned and waved as Ian tossed them away. "I love you, bro!" he called proudly. A fireball skidded on the ground just in front of him before he could respond, and he returned his attention to the wolf dragons.

"Why don't you use your fire breath on these things?" Ian asked, slightly breathless from his previous tries to counter them all at once.

"They resist fire!" she replied angrily.

Of course they did. Still, nothing was going to stop Ian from insuring that they all made it through this.

Even though they were still outnumbered, having the Manticore back made a huge difference in the fight. It meant one more person who could watch Ian's back and fight off the beasts who were still cornering Barley at the wall. She was also much bigger and stronger than the brothers, and unlike Barley she actually knew how to use a sword. Between the three of them fighting the wolf dragons had become easier. A few of them had even ran away, leaving fewer of them than before. Things were looking up...but Ian saw a problem.

"Ma'am, you're hurt!" he exclaimed, looking at the hideous claw marks that had been left on the Manticore's arm.

"Just a few more scars for the storybooks," she said dismissively. One of the monsters tried to rush her from behind; before Ian could warn her, her tail struck it like a bolt of arcane lightning. Her stinger stabbed into its skin, and it collapsed onto the dirt, paralyzed. "I'm fine, Iandore." Her tone was self-assured, but her eyes were almost feral. They looked up to see a rather large wolf dragon flying towards them from the sky. The Manticore growled and sprung from the earth, wings spread wide in her race to meet it.

"Get away from me!"

Barley's voice.

Ian spun around to see that one of the smaller wolf dragons had tackled him, his sword now laying several feet away. But Barley managed to position his foot enough to shove it off of him completely. Ian shot a fireworks spell at it; he missed it by an inch, but it was enough to scare the creature away.

_We're close,_ Ian thought, _we're so close to being done...we have to be, right?_

"Barley, this is your chance--run for it!" Ian urged him.

Barley nodded and started to do just that--only to abruptly fall to the ground. Barley lifted his face, spitting out dirt. He looked as baffled as Ian felt. They both looked behind Barley, and Ian understood. He wasn't sure when it must've happened, but Barley had gotten his ankle tangled in the rope...which was _still_ tied to the rock. Before they could do anything about it, they heard a shriek, and they looked up.

The Manticore and the wolf dragon--the alpha, it _had_ to have been the alpha, what else could it be, as big as it was?--were fighting in mid-air. She swung the Curse Crusher at it, slicing one of its wings clean off. But as it fell, it fired off a powerful fireball, and it flew directly into the top of the rock wall.

The impact was devastating, drilling deep into the earth, enough that it seemed that the entire outcropping was coming down. Ian saw the raw terror in Barley's eyes, still trapped by the rope with not enough time to free himself, though he was trying, before he'd be _pulverized--_

_"NO!"_

Ian ran faster than he'd ever run in his life, and he almost couldn't think straight--he couldn't levitate Barley away, nor could he levitate all that stone, there was too much, _far_ too much!

_I can't lose you--I_ won't!

He reached Barley in the nick of time.

_"BASTION FORTIGAR!"_

He put his entire heart into the spell, and the dome covered them both just as all the dirt and boulders buried them.

Ian was already trembling from the effort of holding off so much weight, and his eyes were stinging, but he dared not look away. He was all too aware of what would happen if he did.

"Ian..." Barley murmured. Ian heard him move; he must've been working on getting the rope off of his ankle. Ian wanted to look at his brother, to reassure him that he could do this, that he could keep them both safe. But even if he could, he didn't know if that was true. He didn't know how many wolf dragons were left, how many the Manticore now had to fight on her own. And she would have to do so before she could help them.

Almost as though his fears had been heard, Ian heard a distant scraping sound, and a muffled voice. He couldn't hear what it was saying, but he knew it was the Manticore's. She must've been digging her way through to them right now. But would she make it in time?

_Please...I can't keep this up for long..._

He didn't know how long they stood there surrounded by darkness, but he was glad that his shield provided some light for them. If it weren't for the threat of immediate death and the fact that he could feel sweat trickling down his back, he could almost enjoy how beautiful it looked. He wondered if Barley felt the same. He didn't know, because for a change, his older brother was silent. It was unnerving.

_"...arley? I-n?"_

Ian could hear the Manticore more clearly now, but he didn't try to answer her...he needed his concentration to be absolute. He could only assume that was why Barley didn't say anything, either; he could've been afraid of breaking Ian's focus.

_"...comi-g, ok-y--? J-...ang on...!"_

_I'm trying!_ Ian wanted to shout back to her. But he could feel his eyes beginning to burn, and he resorted to his shifting-eye tactic from earlier. It helped, but only slightly. His muscles were aching from the strain, and he was starting to feel dizzy.

_Come on, Miss Manticore, please...please hurry..._

Against his will, Ian dropped to one knee--he heard Barley gasp, but despite his exhaustion Ian kept his gaze open and trained through his sheer force of will. The dome still held firm. Ian panted a little, and he felt Barley gently place a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"You're strong," Barley whispered, "I know you don't feel like it right now...but you are."

Ian wanted to believe him so badly, but he could feel himself reaching his limit. His only other comfort was that it sounded like the Manticore was getting closer to them. Maybe there wasn't as much rubble for her to dig through as he'd feared.

Sure enough, her voice broke through.

"Boys! Please tell me you're there!" She sounded like she was only a few feet away now, and Ian could hear her tearing debris away. Not only that, Ian registered that there was light breaking through from the outside.

"We're here!" Ian finally rasped. But he could feel his resolve fading fast, and he swayed where he was kneeling.

Barley must've known what was about to happen, because he grabbed Ian and yanked him backward just as his eyes closed and the shield dissolved. In almost a heartbeat Ian felt Barley covering him with his own body as soil rained down on top of them...one last, feeble move to protect his little brother. Ian clenched his teeth, swallowed by self-hatred for being so weak, and waited for the end.

He waited.

And waited.

And yet...

He felt movement, he heard rustling...he heard his brother coughing. Ian's eyes opened a crack, only to close as dirt continued to float into them. Before long Ian was coughing as well. Barley groaned and grunted; Ian couldn't see what he was doing, but a moment later he could sense sunlight. Ian opened his eyes in earnest.

They were still alive!

The Manticore whooped. "You made it--I _knew_ you would!"

Barley slid an arm under Ian's back and propped him up into a sitting position. Ian leaned against Barley's shoulder. The two of them were utterly coated in a layer of soil, to the point where not a single part of their blue skin was visible.

"I can't believe we did," Ian mumbled, "For a minute I thought that..."

They were quiet. Then, the Manticore said, "Let's get out of this pile of rocks."

"Fine by me," Barley affirmed, helping Ian to his feet.

Now that Ian looked around, they were surrounded by a ring of stones of different sizes. It reminded him of the day he'd fought the Guardian Curse, when its remains had surrounded him on all sides. They all made their way over the rubble, and Ian saw that all the wolf dragons were either dead or gone. Ian felt a little unsteady on his feet, and he found himself leaning on Barley again. His brother didn't mind.

"I did the best I could to reach you boys before your shield gave out," the Manticore explained, scratching her ear absentmindedly, "I figured that removing the biggest chunks of rock was all I'd have time for."

"But my shield gave out...how are we not dead?" Ian pondered. He ran a hand through his dusty, stiffened hair.

"I started from the sides first," she said, "Once the boulders fell in on themselves enough, I worked from the top next."

"There was a boulder directly above where you were standing," Barley muttered, "I knew that if you blinked..." He couldn't finish his sentence.

Ian swallowed. "So how'd you know that pulling me back would save me?" Barley's hold on Ian tightened. He hesitated before he answered.

"I didn't."

They didn't say anything more until they reached Guinevere. Barley helped Ian inside, where he sat down on the bench. Barley pulled another bottle of water out of the cooler and handed it to Ian, who accepted it with a subdued "thank you". He tossed another bottle to the Manticore, who caught it one-handed. He took a third bottle for himself, stepping back outside to drink a huge gulp and then pour the rest over his head and neck, water turning dark as it rinsed the dirt off of him.

"How did all this happen, anyway?" Ian questioned after he'd drank some water himself. He poured some into his hand and rubbed his face with it.

The Manticore sighed heavily, pouring her water over her scratches--apparently she wasn't thirsty. "That would be my fault," she said dejectedly. The boys looked at her blankly. She sat down (the back end of Guinevere sinking under her weight) and launched into her explanation.

After she had arrived at the cliffs where the source of the attacks was reported, she had noticed a faint, yet foul odor. She had followed it to a cave built into the cliffside, one that couldn't be accessed by anyone or anything that didn't have wings. Upon sensing her presence, the pack of wolf dragons had surged from the depths. She fought back with the intent to drive them out; so far up to that point they had only attacked livestock and other animals. If they'd been allowed to stay, however, they _would_ injure or kill someone eventually--and packs like the one they'd fought together didn't always kill for survival or in defense of territory, either.

The skirmish had been fierce, but brief, and she succeeded in chasing them away. But she learned too late exactly which direction they were headed.

"Boys, I'm sorry," she murmured as she finished her short tale.

"This wasn't your fault," Barley assured her, "You didn't know what you were flying into."

The Manticore smiled...but it was a sad one. She looked at Ian. "Do you remember when we first met? The things we said to each other?"

"Um..." Ian said uncertainly, "yes...?"

"If I'm honest, that's the real reason I chose to look into those reports on my own. Yes, there was your lack of experience to consider, but...when it came down to it, I just wanted to prove to myself that I was still strong and capable. I wanted so desperately to know that I fully escaped the years where I was a shell of my former self!"

"You have!" Ian said with conviction. He felt so guilty. "This must be because of what I said earlier...I'm sorry..."

"Don't be," she said, "You weren't wrong. I'm not elderly, and I won't be for a long time yet, but I'm no spring griffin. I let my pride overrule my common sense. I pushed aside the most important rule of going on quests."

"What's that?" Ian asked curiously. It was Barley who responded.

"Never quest alone."

"Never quest alone," the Manticore confirmed. "If I'd had a questing party with me, I wouldn't have been caught so off-guard. We could've contained the threat, not set it loose on people like you two."

"It's okay," Ian said reassuringly, "we made it through, didn't we?"

"Yeah!" Barley agreed, "We're getting stronger all the time, and so are you. And one day, we'll be able to be exactly the kind of help a Master Adventurer such as yourself requires--trust me!"

The Manticore brightened at these words, and Ian was happy to see _her_ happy. She chuckled. "You know what? I fully believe you will."

* * *

About an hour later, Barley and Ian were heading home after dropping the Manticore off at her tavern. She had plans to contact the necessary authorities to properly deal with the remaining wolf dragons, even resolving to join in herself. While the more vicious members of the pack being killed couldn't be helped, she was hopeful that at least some of the survivors could be transferred to uninhabited areas peacefully. The boys wished her luck with that.

Ian was sitting in the passenger seat, writing yet another checklist in his notepad:

_Go home safely._

_Shower._

_Eat real food._

_Sleep like the dead._

Okay, it wasn't the most impressive list he'd ever made--in fact, it was pretty pitiful to look at--but it gave his hands something to do. After that Ian was gazing tiredly out the window at the passing scenery when Barley spoke.

"You've come such a long way already." Ian turned his head to face him. "The way you held your own against those things? The way you looked after yourself _and_ me? And you used that shield spell like a master!" He paused, his hazel eyes shining with pride. "You were awesome out there."

"So were you," Ian replied fondly, "You're as strong as they come, you know."

Barley spared him an affectionate smile before reverting his attention to the road. "How do you feel about a movie when we get home?"

"Barley, it's been a long day. I kinda want to sleep..."

"You can, I know you're tired. My mind is going a hundred miles an hour, though; I doubt it's going to let me settle down to slumber. And, well..."

Ian's brows furrowed in concern. "What is it?"

"It's stupid, but...I don't wanna be alone."

Ian blinked in surprise, considering this. It took him a moment to comprehend that in his own way, Barley was shaken by the events of today. In a reverse of when they were beneath the rubble, Ian set his hand on Barley's shoulder.

"Sure, but you'd better pick the hammiest, most dramatic adventure movie you've got."

"Can do, but why?"

"Because I know for a fact I'll sleep all the way through it."

Barley smacked his arm, and they both laughed as they drew ever closer to home.

**Author's Note:**

> Truth be told, I have no idea whether I portrayed the wolf dragons the way they were meant to be in the context of the Onward world. I guess I'll find out for sure whenever the Quests of Yore game is released.


End file.
